I am. She who provides has a primary name for me -- story dwellers name everything -- and I accept that. Before her time, I had been called many things, most of them unwelcome. She calls me many things, as well, and all of them are warm.
I am here. Because this is her story, not mine, I will tell you that this was not always so. (To her, yesterdays are real places, where she travels again and again. I have long observed this and have come to find it less astonishing.) I was born into a place quite unlike my now.
It was wild, there were others like me, and the one who guided me. That one also provided, she was also warm, and then she was taken. Another kind took us all.
My place, then, became very small. My kind surrounded me, but separately. My one and I were kept apart as well. I could hear the others -- sometimes, one would be taken past my space -- but my space was solitary. I was.
Gradually, I noticed my growth, as everything became smaller around me. Energy welled up inside my body, and what to do with it? I observed. What else was possible?
You're thinking this is about me. It is not.
When she appeared, this new one, the energy around me changed. What? I was startled. What are you about? She kneeled and looked into my eyes, a mirror reflecting: What? What are you all about? She took hold, walked me out, into sunlight.
Out! I reacted. Sunlight, wind, the enticing odors of so many others. Then, into another enclosure -- but so much more space, despite its boundaries. I leapt, not for joy, simply an involuntary response. I ran. I vocalized. Not for any purpose except that it felt good.
This new one, she watched me. Not fully -- just seeing me, but from the periphery of a story. (They do not realize how obvious this is to us, when their minds are elsewhere. So this did not concern me.)
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